“Huh,” the voices exclaimed, “a productive day already! Not even four hours into the day, and you’ve already killed off a treacherous slave. Satisfying work!”
Braakk liked it when the voices complimented and praised him. For some reason, it just made him feel good. He proudly threw the corpse of the human slave to the ground at his feet chuckling. “This is the punishment that you will receive if you fall out of line! This is the punishment when you fail!” he bellowed to the assembly of other slaves, horrified looks on their faces.
Braakk and and 200 of his clan, the Ma’qwa, had landed with their dropships on the planet Zaga’rath in order to pillage some nearby rural settlements for supply and new technology. As they headed back to their ships, they caught a slave, who was later confirmed to have hidden away on the dropship, trying to sneak away. His crew was ready to go ahead and kill him on the spot, but Braakk had a much better plan, which lead to this moment. He decided to let his “guests” know why he earned the nickname “the Blade of the Ma’qwa.”
“You are nothing,” Braakk said, tearing the left leg off of the corpse, “and never will be. You are here for only one purpose and if you do not fulfill it, you can expect a similar fate.” He waved the couple thousand slaves, all of varying species, to be dismissed, and they left in complete and total silence, just the way Braakk and the voices liked it.
“Tech Lord Braakk!” exclaimed a fellow Seraphim, looking disgruntled. This one was not one Braakk recognised, but he nodded for the other to continue. “I wish to speak to you about what just transpired.”
“Yes, I could have guessed that considering your expression. Are you too weak of will to handle the death of a member of an inferior species?”
“No, of course not,” said the lower Seraphim, “it’s just that I do not know if it was the wisest decision. You see, the slave may rebel after what you did to one of them, and mayb-”
“YOU DARE QUESTION MY WISDOM?” both Braakk and the voices boomed simultaneously. The lackey flinched.
“N-no, Teck Lord Braakk, I-I jus-”
He didn’t even have time to finish the sentence before Braakk’s ark pistol shot a hole straight through his head. The body crumpled to the floor.
“Excellent,” the voices screamed with joy, “two traitors in four hours! You might set a record today!”
“That would be the plan.” Braakk muttered back to them. “One of you clean up the filth that I have cleansed from this ship,” he yelled to one of his subordinates, “I don’t like it when my ship smells like a Grompin. In the meantime, I’d like to take a little tour of this planet without the pillaging. Tech Master Jaun’tu is in charge until I get back.”
He piloted his own personal transport down to the planet’s surface, this time away from where the Seraphim had previously “visited,” and came out to see the countless faces staring in a mix of shock, fascination, and horror at him. The voices didn’t care though, they were just weak beings after all.
And then he saw it. That one unlucky droid, walking down the street. And it saw him as well.
Braakk immediately charged for the pile of scrap that he would use to improve the ship. The droid didn’t like that idea much, though. It ran, knocking over anything that it could use to slow down the four armed alien chasing it, calling for help on the somewhat busy street it was being lead down. However, it wasn’t quick enough. Braakk leaped on it, pinning it to the ground and ripping its metalic head off, the voices cackling and the assorted species in the street screaming.
Braakk head the sound of an arc blade before it could hit him. Swiftly rolling out of the way and ejecting his own arc blade and shield from his pressure suit, he saw a human holding it, the blade stuck in the ground where Braakk had been a fraction of a second before.
Needless to say, neither Braakk or the voices approved of a human using seraphim technology. Braakk lunged at the human, cutting a chunk of his leg off. Obviously, this lesser being hadn’t know what he was getting himself into. As the human began to drag himself away, Braakk lifted the now lighter being up off of the ground so that they were face to face.
“Where did you receive this weapon?” Braakk asked sternly.
The unwise human chose to spit in his face.
The voices told Braakk to make the other leg look identical to the first. Braakk complied happily, enjoying the screams of agony.
“I asked you a question,” Braakk said, obviously annoyed, “even you inferior humans should know how to answer.”
“Y-yes, ugh, I’ll tell you what you want to know,” the human groaned, blood spurting out of his now shorter legs, “I got it at the Comet.”
“I’m afraid I’ll need more information- what is this ‘Comet’ you talk of?” Braakk implored, placing his blade at the edge of the man’s neck.
“It’s our space station,” the human gasped, “We get smugglers that come around sometimes and sell alien tech for high prices.”
“Good, boy, now you have my permission to die” Braakk said before tearing the head off of the now completely useless human, and then took the droid back toward the transport.
“Huh, a productive day already!” the voices said, “Five hours into the day and you’ve already done so much. Satisfying work indeed!”
Braakk chuckled, looking toward the sky. “I’m just getting started.”
Subject: Just a Regular Morning